


The Journal (Learning to Live, Learning to Love)

by mission_possible



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 14:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mission_possible/pseuds/mission_possible
Summary: The one where her mother dies, but she's probably been an asshole this whole time. Plus there's a cute girl who doesn't make things any easier. And it's all written down through poor descriptions in a journal she doesn't know why she kept.





	The Journal (Learning to Live, Learning to Love)

**Author's Note:**

> My first published piece :)
> 
> I listened to Coldplay while writing this, in case any of you wanted the full effect.

August 31, 2013

          Hey. My name is Camila and I’m sixteen years old. I’m from Miami, but I was born in Cuba, and I lived there until I was six. I never knew my dad, but he was probably an asshole. My mom died not even a week ago, and it still feels like I’m going to wake up from this nightmare any day now. I’m still waiting for that to happen. I am currently an orphan, and I know that makes me a great protagonist for literally any action movie, so if there are any directors out there looking to cast, even just for inspiration, know I’m hiring. No, for real, my therapist who was so graciously granted to me by social services to prevent me from becoming a psychopath is making me do this. Hello, Martha, I still don’t like you :).  
          I’m currently living in a foster home with three other foster kids who are literally from hell. They’re not cynical and angsty like I probably am, they’re just annoying and loud. But I’m getting out of here. I have a brother, apparently, because my dad’s pull-out game is terrible. I know, I’m terrible too. His name is Daniel, and he’s twenty four. He lives in Oregon, which is far away, but not far enough from this hell-hole. There isn’t even A/C in this house. Miami heat in the summer. It’s like I'm sitting under the devil’s butt cheeks. The service lady that pretends she likes me told me to pack my bags, but since I’m a gracious guest, I will only bring one ~~because I only have one~~ because I don’t want them to have to pay for additional luggage. I leave tomorrow, well, today, if we’re being technical.  
          I’m going to miss Miami, but I’ll sure as hell be back. Not going to miss you, though, Martha. Or this stupid journal. I miss you, Mom. I love you.

 

* * *

 

September 6, 2013

          So somehow, this little fucker (sorry) found it’s way into the bottom of my bag before I left. I swore I threw it in the trashcan in the foster house for someone to find in case I was brutally murdered by one of those devil children. My money would’ve been on Jaxson. No one spells Jaxson with an ‘x’. I've had my suspicions from the start. But I’m still creeped out by how this journal basically followed me. It’s like the start of a bad horror movie. I don’t even know why I’m writing in this thing. Martha is still givin’ em’ hell in Miami, and I’m all the way over here in rainy Oregon. It’s not as cold as I thought it would be, but the clouds and rain suit my personality well.  
          School started this week, and I don’t really have many friends. Any, if we’re being technical, but that’s ok. Friends mean talking about your personal life, and mine is all messed up right now, so I’d rather not. Daniel is nice though. I don’t talk to him much, but I think he understands. He has a girlfriend whose name I didn’t bother to remember. When I do, I’ll write it down just to show you how stupid it is. Oh my god, I’m talking to my journal. I knew it, Martha. I am becoming a psychopath.  
          I still think about you, Mom. I hung up the only picture I had of us on the wall, right by my bed so I can say goodnight to you every time I go to sleep. And good morning every time I wake up. I hope you’re doing well, and that your crazy Aunts aren’t tormenting you. I hope you’re in Cuba, because I know how happy it made you. I’m going to go back one day—for us. I promise.

 

* * *

 

September 13, 2013

          I’m writing again because it’s Friday night and Daniel is out with his friends and I’m stuck here with mine. Congratulations Journal, you are my best friend. Hold your title with pride.  
          Anyway, I met this girl at school today. She’s loud and mean, and tall, and basically my opposite. Although I will admit, I’ve become meaner in the past few weeks. My mother died. I'm allowed to be an asshole. Fuck you if you think otherwise. Her name is Dinah, and she hates Oregon too. We didn’t really ‘talk’ like people do, just mostly looked around in the woods for scrap metal because apparently that’s what people do here for fun??? Who knows, I’m still adjusting to the culture. But Dinah is nice, and she says her friends would like me too.  
          Oh, I almost forgot! Daniel’s girlfriend’s name is Molly. And yes, she’s such a bitch. I know she’s cheating on him, by the smudge of her lipstick and smell of cigarettes and unfamiliar cologne, but I don’t have the heart to tell him. I've spoken maybe three words to him in totality, and it would really suck for him if my next ones were ‘by the way, Molly’s cheating on you’. He’ll figure it out eventually. Daniel’s pretty smart.  
          Oregon isn’t really growing on me, in all honesty. I miss Miami. The unpredictable rain and the heat and the beaches and how you can hear a pulse if you listen hard enough. Oregon is rainy and gloomy and becoming cold, and it’s all countryside. Everyone here drives a pickup and no one went to college.  
          I still think about you, Mom, but it doesn’t hurt as much. I don’t talk about you to anyone, even though you deserve to be screamed from the rooftops. I’m working on it, I promise. It's just still too fresh. But Daniel saw how I hung up our picture from Disneyland, and he framed it for me. I would’ve been mad at him for going through my things, but he’s in charge of me now, as weird as it is, and it was a nice thing for him to do. Now the outside matches the inside—you belong and now you look like it.

 

* * *

 

September 28. 2013

          Hey Journal, it’s been over two weeks, I know. It’s just that I think I have friends now. Dinah was right about her friends liking me, and I like them too. Especially this one girl, but I won’t bore you with the details. Dinah’s other friends, Normani, and Ally, are so nice, but—no, never mind, I will bore you. Her name is Lauren, and she belongs in an art museum or in the sky because us shitty humans don’t deserve her. She’s sweet, and kind, and funny, and so much more than stupid descriptive words but cheesy cliches aren’t that much better and I'm doing a really bad job at describing how amazing she is, but she is, I promise. Oh my God, I think I like Lauren. Well, I like Lauren. You heard it here first, Journal. Now my new life here is going to be even harder.  
          Daniel and I are getting along better, I think. These fancy official papers came in the mail confirming Daniel as my legal guardian, and he threw a celebratory dinner. We made Cuban food together, and I know Mom is probably rolling over in her grave right now (sorry Mom, I know I’m an asshole, I love you) but it was a special moment. He’s trying to make things work, and I think I should too.  
          I still haven’t told anyone about you, Mom, and I’m sorry. It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m weird. Or different, or anything other than a normal kid with two parents living a normal life. People are bound to find out soon, this town is too small for secrets. But I’m promising here that when they do, or when I tell them, I will hold my head high with pride. And I’ll tell them ‘yeah, my mother passed away, but only because God thought she was too good for this world so he made her an angel’. And I’ll scream it from the rooftops and write it on the sides of buildings or in the sand in these pathetic beaches, but I’m just not there yet. But baby steps.

 

* * *

 

October 18, 2013

          So it turns out that I might be unreasonably obsessed with Lauren. It’s healthy, I think, but every time I look at her I find another feat of her beauty. For example, today at school, I noticed her freckles. She wasn’t wearing make-up today, a look I’m completely down for. It just showed me that yeah, she’s definitely just a figment of my imagination. (The teacher made us watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in class today since he didn’t want to plan a lesson, and it was a great movie. Like 10/10 recommend give it a watch.) But back to my story— P.S.A., Lauren is gorgeous. I literally choked on air when I saw her freckles sparkling through the dark of the classroom. (So turns out, I wasn’t really watching the movie in class. I was watching Lauren, so please disregard my previous review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and ask someone who was actually paying attention to the movie.) She asked me if I was alright and I said no, not really, to which she gave me a confused look, but Scout’s Honor: I shall never tell a lie.  
          Also, Dinah followed me home yesterday, because she was convinced I was homeless. She says she was just looking out for my safety, but I’m still caught up on the fact that she really thought I was homeless. She burst inside of the house to find me at the table doing homework with an alarmed expression and Daniel cooking dinner looking even more scared. She ran outside, embarrassed, because apparently she had the biggest crush on Daniel when he was in high school. She also said she knew I looked familiar.  
          So I figured Dinah knows? I honestly don’t know what goes through Dinah’s head sometimes, so the next day I asked her, and she thinks Daniel’s my brother. Like my full-brother, not half-brother. I did’t correct her. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m kicking myself for not saying otherwise. I’m still not ready.  
          The school does this big Halloween costume competition, and I know what I’m going as: an orphan. I figured it would be the easiest, since I already have the perfect costume: baggy clothes and empty eyes. Am I being a complete dick right now? Because I find this kind of stuff funny, but I feel like no one else does. I probably won’t win, because Dinah said it’s just a popularity contest, and that means Austin Mahone will win. Austin Mahone is able to appear tan even though the sun doesn’t exist in Oregon, and he has the douchey personality to go with the muscle-tanks and backwards hats. You wouldn’t like him, Mom. From the stories I’ve heard, he kind of acts like Dad. I hope you’re haunting him, wherever he is. I love you.

 

* * *

 

November 3, 2013

          So a lot has happened, Journal, are you ready? First, I didn’t win the Halloween contest, but neither did Austin. Our girl Lauren did, and she was the cutest vampire I’ve ever seen. My heartbeat still hasn’t calmed down, and it’s currently been twelve hours, thirty-six minutes, and twenty-four seconds since I last saw her. I'm not crazy, I promise. And I know having to convince people you aren’t crazy means otherwise, but I’m not. Lauren’s just the most beautiful person on this planet. If you had seen her, you would understand.  
          Another thing that happened was Daniel and I talked about Dad. He said he had never met Dad either, never even seen a picture. I showed him the newspaper article you showed me, Mom. It was written in Spanish, so I had to translate for him, and it was about Dad carrying his high-school fútbol team to victory and winning the championship. I’m sorry I kept it. I just…it came in handy, because Daniel didn’t even know what Dad looked like. He thanked me, so I’m thanking you (while also apologizing for keeping it when you told me not to). Daniel also told me he broke up with Molly. My only response was ‘finally’.  
          Also, Ally’s parents own a diner, and Dinah, Normani, and Lauren hang out there with her a lot. They brought me along for the first time, and holy moly, was the food good. If you ever go, Journal, get the waffles. And share a chocolate milkshake with a cute girl. It makes the experience a million times better.  
          And the final thing that happened was Austin Mahone asked me out on a date. Before you freak out, Mom, just know that I got the satisfaction of turning down the ‘coolest’ kid in school. Mostly because there was an incredibly cute girl a couple lockers down studying her textbook intently, but it doesn’t hurt to let the general population think I turned Austin Mahone down because I’m too good for him and just that cool. It’s really because the girl a few lockers down has me wrapped around her finger, and she probably doesn’t even know it.  
          Oregon maybe isn’t so bad, Mom. It grows on you, but it’s probably just the people.

 

* * *

 

November 19, 2013

          Oregon is really cold. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced in Miami. Thankfully that means I can wear sweatshirts and sweatpants around at school and it’s socially acceptable (although not by Normani's standards). I had never really seen snow before, and it was exciting at first, but now it’s just a hassle. Combined with my clumsiness, it’s just a hazard. At least Lauren thinks it’s funny whenever I eat it.  
          Austin tried to ask me out again, and it’s just sad now. I wish I was making this up, because it’s embarrassing for me too. I don’t want Lauren thinking I'm in to him either, because I’m 100% here to be Lauren’s girlfriend. Just throwing it out there, because she is still the most beautiful girl in the world. Again, you’d have to see her to understand. Just take my word for it, though: she’s the most beautiful girl in the world.  
          Daniel said his mother is going to be coming up for Thanksgiving next Thursday, and I’m not really nervous. If she’s anything like him, Thanksgiving might actually be enjoyable and calm this year. You’d really like Daniel, Mom. He’s so much like you, and it makes me miss you a bit less. Not in the bad way, It’s like you’re still here. He said he’s been working on his Cuban food, so I’m excited for that too.  
          I think I like writing in this journal. Even though I’m pretty bad at it. (English is my worst subject). But it’s nice. It’s relaxing, and reading back over past entries makes me smile. Don’t tell Martha, though. Martha doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.

* * *

 

December 5, 2013

          We’re doing Secret Santa among the five of us, and I’m personally thanking you, Mom, because I got Lauren. I’m freaking out on what to get her, and I may or may not have asked Dinah for advice. (Also, Dinah is smarter than she looks, because she figured out my whole ‘crush-situation’ on Lauren pretty quickly. She calls herself the Captain now, but I’m worried it’s more of a dictatorship.) Dinah suggested I get Lauren something to do with art, but that’s the obvious choice. I have nineteen days to figure this out, though, so wish me luck.  
          Speaking of Lauren, my crush isn’t letting up. I wonder if she knows, and is making herself seem more beautiful on purpose. I didn’t think it was possible, but then again, Lauren probably isn’t even real. She might just be a coping mechanism for my messed up brain. Martha would probably say that. I’m still bitter she takes up my thoughts like that. Martha doesn’t deserve my attention. Lauren accidentally bumped into me in the lunch line today, and I still haven’t recovered. I don’t think I’m going to last any longer.  
          I’ve been stressing over winter finals, and Daniel’s actually really smart. He’s helping me study, and even giving me tips about certain teachers (I can’t exactly take the tips to heart because times might’ve changed) (Have I mentioned how many old jokes I’ve made around Daniel now? The answer is a lot).  
          Daniel’s mom, Patricia, was just as sweet, if not more, as Daniel. She has Daniel’s blonde hair and gentle smile, and made me feel like a part of the family. She’s coming back for Christmas, and I’m honestly excited. Don’t worry, though, Mom. She’s not replacing you. You’re definitely irreplaceable. I love you.

 

* * *

 

December 12, 2013

          Lauren and I have been hanging out more, and as happy as it makes me, I can’t help but feel guilty. I feel like I know everything about her from how she only plays softball because it’s how she blows off steam to why she loves the moon so much. I’m a closed book to her, and I know it bothers her. It’s just…I’m still scared. I want to tell her everything, especially every shred of memory I can recollect of you, Mom, and I know I will eventually, I just don’t know if she’ll stick around long enough to find out. I really like her, though. I’ve never liked someone so much.

 

* * *

 

December 13, 2013

          Exams are over, and it’s break now. I’m completely exhausted. But apparently, me and the girls aren’t very good at Secret Santa, or maybe Lauren’s deductive skills are just really good, but she knows I have her. And we were talking last night, in her room watching the sun set, and she leaned over and kissed me.  
          First of all, woah, I’m still smiling like an idiot. Second, I must’ve been really oblivious because she said she’s been dropping hints and flirting for weeks now. Third, she’s an amazing kisser, and don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.  
          I know you’re smiling down at us, Mom. I know you know that I think I’m falling in love. And I just want you to know that I’m ready to tell her everything. And I only hope I do you justice. Wish me luck, I love you.

 

* * *

 

December 24, 2013

Dear Lauren,

          This is my Journal, and I’m writing this entry now just hours before I hand this to you and watch you read it. This is your Secret Santa gift, and if this isn’t enough, I got you another present. (It’s a necklace, by the way). By now, you’ve probably read all about me and my story so far that probably wasn’t too interesting, I’m sorry, by the way, but this is the part where I explain everything.  
          Yes, my mother passed away not even a year ago, and although it still hurts, you are part of why it doesn’t sting as much. She had been battling breast cancer for years, but she went down swinging. Instead of spending my next two years of minority being shuffled through the system, I agreed to live with my half-brother Daniel who assumed guardianship over me. I never knew our father, and neither did he, but he is a complete dick.  
           At first I hated it here. I didn’t like the weather and I missed my mom, and although it's still true, I’m not sad. I know she’s still with me, and I know she’s watching over me. I’m learning to live here.  
          Then I met you. And you, Lauren Michelle Jauregui Morgado, rocked my world. You turned it upside down, and made me question everything I knew about myself. I found myself coming home from school smiling, and spending all night waiting to go back tomorrow. You are the most beautiful girl I know (my mother doesn’t count, because she’s definitely an angel now), but your beauty almost matches hers. Every day I think about how lucky I am to have met you, and how I’m even luckier to get to know you, and listen to you unpack your thoughts and opinions. That’s why I drew to you so quickly: I didn’t have to talk, but I could listen for hours, entertained. I’m sorry for taking so long to open up to you, but I’m glad you stuck with me.  
          You mean a lot to me, Lauren. And even though we haven’t even known each other for five months, I feel like I’ve known you forever. (Was that one too cliche? It felt really cliche when I wrote it). I feel like I can tell you anything now, and I know you won’t hurt me. I really like kissing you, too. I hope you like kissing me.  
          The point of writing this was to tell you three things. One, my mother passed away. Two, I really like you. Three, my mother would’ve really liked you too, and you remind me a lot of her. I’m adding a fourth, because it’s my journal and I can. Four, you’re incredibly beautiful.  
          So, Merry Christmas, Lauren. You deserve more than I can give you, but I hope this was an ok gift.

 

* * *

 

December 26, 2013

          So Christmas went well. Lauren liked her gifts, and my gift from her was the words ‘I love you’ (also a sweater she made herself. It’s itchy, but I’m wearing it now). Christmas with Daniel and Patricia went well too. I won’t bore you with my gifts, but they got me another journal. A nice moleskin one. I’m not replacing you, Journal, it’s just that you’re filling up and I’m almost out of room. I’ll never forget you, though.  
          Lauren is coming over today to pick me up. We’re heading to Seattle for the day to see The Needle, and I’m just happy I get to spend the day with Lauren. I’m really happy with her.  
          Today marks six months since you passed, and Mom, I think we’ve come a long way. I miss you incredibly, and there's an unfixable hole in my heart, but I’ve learned to live with it. And love it, thanks to some people. I’m learning to live with you by my side in your next life, and I’m proud of myself for coming so far. I know you’re proud of me. I love you so much.  
          I’ve learned to take the love you’ve given me and pass it on to others. I’m filled with only love now, and I’m completely indebted to you for teaching me how to love unconditionally.  
          This looks like goodbye, Journal, since I’m on the second-to-last page. It’s been quite the journey, full of hurting, healing, and loving, and I’m thanking you for helping me through it. (Really myself, since I’m not a psychopath.) My final words to you are: Martha is still awful. If I die, it was Jaxson. Daniel, you make an ok guardian, even if you’re pretty old. Mom, I know you’re smiling down at me, and I’m smiling back up. Dinah, Normani, and Ally, thank you for sticking with me and loving me, even though you all thought I was homeless. Lauren, I love you with all my heart. I guess I’ll catch ya’ around, Journal.

  
Camila

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
